I just wanted to be at the beach by myself. I wanted to feel the salt breeze against my skin, the sun beam down on me, or the fresh water to make me feel clean. I didn’t intend to swim out as far as I had, and I didn’t realize how strong the rip current was. So, when I got sucked under it came as a shock. I can’t tell you how long I was under for, but it felt like forever.
The struggle. The flailing of my arms, the kicking of my feet, all trying to grasp for the surface to catch a breath. A hope of survival.
I kept flailing, kept grasping… but it’s water, it slips right through my fingers. There was nothing to hold on to. No life preserver. No lifeguard on duty.
Those million minutes I can see so clearly like my life was in slow motion: I’m swimming, panicking, trying to get to the surface, I see my hand go slowly past my face and clasp for something… anything. It was as if I was hoping the water carried weight, and I could hold on to it and pull myself out of the water.
My determination was deterring, and I thought I would be just another name on the news:
She will always be cherished
And just then…
I reach my hand up and I catch hold of a random piece of driftwood. I was rescued.
I’m a self-titled “inspirational blogger.”
Truthfully, I had no intentions or dreams of ever being a writer. I used to always say “that’s just not my thing”.
And now, it’s become my thing; actually one of my favorite things.
In the process of figuring out this blog, and my why, and the purpose, I decided I wanted it to be a source of inspiration and encouragement when days feel cloudy.
Naturally, I find myself writing about cloudy things… At least last year it felt that way.
I started to notice that people seemed like they were feeling bad for me. Sad that my life seemed so depressing or anxious.
I wanted to inspire others, but maybe more truthfully, I was giving people a safe place, to be honest about their struggles… at least I hope.
You see, inspiration only goes so far.
Beautiful cliches, catchy life slogans, inspiring words, are just weightless water for a drowning soul.
You need driftwood to hold on to. To rescue you. To give you breath. To save your life.
I never went to the beach by my myself. I didn’t literally almost drown last year.
But when I thought about this post, and the response I wanted to give to those who had been feeling bad for me… that was the visual that came to my mind.
I am pathetically needy.
And all together desperate.
I think we all are.
The inspirational quotes, the beautiful cliches, those are like the gasps of air before you get ripped back under into the rip current.
True Hope… that’s the driftwood.
And while last year, and the two years before that, felt like I was drowning and constantly pulled into the rip current… I was always able to come up and catch the DriftWood.
In every direction we look, life is scary.
To my right: uncertainty, failure, regret, depression, anxiety…
To my left: sickness, disease, alcoholism, hurt, rejection, betrayal…
How do we hold on when life feels so incredibly drowning?
The only thing secure, unchanging, and sure: Jesus.
He will never leave.
He will never change.
He will always heal.
He will always provide.
He will always rescue.
He is our only hope.
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”